


A Study of Heightened Sexual Arousal and Pleasure as a Response to the Stimulus of a Physical and/or Mental Confrontation with an Enemy

by hpstrangelove



Category: The Administration - Manna Francis
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpstrangelove/pseuds/hpstrangelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carnac holds the future of SimTech in his hands. How far will Warrick go to save his company? How far will Toreth go to save Warrick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study of Heightened Sexual Arousal and Pleasure as a Response to the Stimulus of a Physical and/or Mental Confrontation with an Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winoniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winoniel/gifts).



> Warning: Contains dubious consent, mention of child sexual abuse.
> 
> Many, many thanks to joanwilder for SpaG, and to sestra-prior for BritPick.

SimTech had taken a gamble. They hadn’t lost yet, but things were looking bleak. They were running out of time. It had been the right choice, continuing the long-term research and development program. The thing that made SimTech unique was the creativity of the programming staff. They’d kept going for another eighteen months. If they’d transferred the programmers to core projects like Asher had wanted, Warrick had no doubts most of the better programmers would be gone by now. Loyalty only went so far.

But this was their last chance, the licensing agreement that would make or break SimTech. When they’d first been approached a month ago by EDO Corp with the idea, Warrick had brought together his best programmers – the very ones who would’ve been gone if it weren’t for the continuation of the R&D program – to create a prototype in just twenty-one days.

He’d forgotten what it was like to work sixteen, sometimes twenty-hour days, the rush of adrenaline fueling his body, his brain visualizing the possibilities, his fingers tapping out code on the keyboard of his computer as he translated thoughts into formulas. It was a different kind of game, a different way of losing himself, than the one he played with Toreth. A different kind of orgasm when everything came together, the virtual seeming so perfectly real that only he could tell the two apart.

“What do you think? Is this what you had in mind?” he asked.

Anna Day and Victoria Morris, representatives of EDO Corp, stood with him and other members of the programming team inside the virtual capsule, the city of New London spread out before them. They could feel a slight vibration beneath their feet as the giant virtual Ferris wheel turned.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” Victoria said, “but never thought I’d experience it. I’ve seen the videos in our archives, but nothing could have prepared me…to think that we’re the first, after all these years, to actually ride on the London Eye.”

The London Eye, along with most of the tourist attractions located on the Thames, had been targeted by the terrorists’ dirty bombs. Thousands had died. Cleanup and decontamination was expensive, and no one had been in a rush to rebuild on what was now considered sacred ground.

EDO Energy, the predecessor of EDO Corp, had held the marketing rights to the London Eye at the time of the attacks. The details were buried in restricted historical material, but the London Eye had become the official logo for EDO Corp. Rebuilding the Ferris wheel, although desirable, was impractical.

Until now.

A floating console appeared. Warrick made a few adjustments, then the sky turned from day into night.

“Oh my god, it’s…so beautiful,” Anna whispered, overcome with awe.

Silence filled the capsule as the occupants took in the view.

Warrick waited a few minutes before speaking. “We used videos from your archives as the reference for the views. The feeling of movement is based on several different Ferris wheels in amusement parks throughout the Administration, as there is no technical spec available any longer on the London Eye. We do know that there were thirty-two capsules with a capacity to hold twenty-five people in each one. This is a prototype of just one capsule, connecting twenty-five sim units. If you want to virtualize the entire London Eye, that would be…” he paused for effect, “eight hundred sim units.”

The silence continued a moment longer before Victoria spoke. “It’s still cheaper than decontamination. And it will avoid any accusation of us being insensitive towards the dead. We don’t want to do this partway, though. It has to be all or nothing. I take it that simultaneously connecting that many sim units together is feasible?”

“The hardware is designed to theoretically handle an unlimited number of concurrent connections,” Warrick explained, “although the most we’ve tested has been one hundred units. What has _more_ impact are things such as the available power supply and a space to install that many sim units. A redeveloped industrial warehouse or hotel would be the perfect place.”

“What are the safety issues of bringing together that many people in the same virtual world, all at the same time?” Victoria asked. “What I mean is, in a real world situation when you get crowds of people together, you have the potential for different personalities to clash, the potential for violence. Even in a virtual world, you have the personalities and quirks of eight hundred people coming together. While there might not be any actual physical violence possible, what is the impact on the sim users’ emotions, thought processes, when they’re all in the sim together at the same time?”

“I’ll admit,” Warrick said, sounding apologetic, “we have no data on that many people. This is the first project that we’ve had on this large a scale. The test of one hundred sim units was for a training scenario, so much of that data wouldn’t be pertinent to this project.”

“Would you have any objections to us getting an outside consultant to review the issue?” Anna asked.

Warrick smiled. “No, none at all, as long as all the necessary confidentiality agreements are signed. Why don’t we adjourn to the boardroom and discuss the details.”

 

*****

Thank fuck, Toreth had been overwhelmed these past few weeks with interrogations. Warrick had been spending most nights at SimTech, working some hot new project. Toreth didn’t like sleeping in the flat alone, but going out to a pickup bar appealed to him even less. And he didn’t want to dwell too much on what _that_ might mean.

Chevril had had a break in a case he’d been working since the end of August and there’d been over one hundred and fifty arrests, all needing interrogation. It gave Toreth an excuse to work late, plus having Chevril owe him a favor was a bonus. Today, though, he’d returned from a late lunch to find Warrick had left a message saying SimTech’s deal was done, contracts had been signed, and he was looking forward to making up for lost time.

Toreth walked straight to Sara’s desk. “Call Chev and let him know I’m done with interrogations for today. I’m going home.”

She smiled. “Warrick’s presentation was a success, then?”

“Yeah, sounds like it. I still don’t know what it was about. Not that I care. I just hate it when SimTech intrudes on our personal life. On the other hand, after going three full weeks without a fuck, he’ll be gagging for it – literally. On second thought, tell Chev I’ll be off the entire weekend – he’s on his own until Monday.”

With that, he turned from her desk and headed towards the lift, humming happily out of key.

 

*****

Warrick was glad he didn’t have any meetings scheduled today. Although he wore a long-sleeved shirt, some of the bruising around his wrists was still visible. It’d looked so bad yesterday that he’d taken the day off and worked from home. There was too much to do, though, for him to take Tuesday off, too. He’d simply have to suffer through it and hide in his office. Thank goodness Dilly was off-world. She’d always threatened to call Justice on Toreth if she thought he was really hurting Warrick. It was difficult to look at his wrists and not come to that conclusion.

Every time he shifted position, he groaned. His body ached all over, but in a good way. It was distracting, though, reminding him of the past weekend with Toreth, playing their game. It had left him sore but satisfied.

When he’d left the message at I&I on Friday, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d arrived at the flat and found it empty. He was disappointed but slightly relieved too. He was tired, coming down from the three-week adrenaline rush. He didn’t even have the energy to make something to eat. A hot shower and a good night’s sleep would do him wonders.

Barely seconds had passed after he’d got into bed and turned out the light when the weight of a body was on top of him, a hand pressing hard over his mouth.

“I’ve been watching the flat. You haven’t been home before midnight all week, but the night I decide to break in, you have to come home early. Too bad for you. I was just on my way out, but now I’ll have a bit of fun before I leave. I’m in no hurry. I have nowhere I have to be. We have all weekend to become – _acquainted_.”

Warrick’s corporate training kicked in and he struggled to free himself. There was always the chance that it could be a real break-in, a real thief intent on raping him, but after those first few moments of panic, Warrick could tell. It did nothing to dampen his arousal, knowing that it was Toreth who held him down, whispering hotly in his ear, making dark promises and dangerous threats.

Warrick moved in his chair again, trying to relieve the tightness of his trousers caused by his reminiscing. His breath hitched at the tenderness in his arse. The last time Toreth had been that rough had been the night after Toreth’s birthday, at the Renaissance Center…five, six years ago.

Had it really been that long ago? He remembered the night as if it’d only been last week… It had been the first time Toreth had ‘run’. Warrick had had to do so much planning to get Toreth to come around again. He thought of that period as the learning phase of their relationship – working out what the triggers were which would cause Toreth to bolt. There were so many. Toreth was high-maintenance, but in the end, Warrick had decided he was worth the effort. Especially if the result was more weekends like this past one.

There was a knock on the door, bringing him back to the present. Gerry stepped inside.

“Dr. Warrick.” He appeared irritated. Gerry’s emotions rarely showed, so this couldn’t be anything good.

“What’s the matter?”

“Reception called. There’s someone here to see you. I told them you were busy, but he keeps insisting it’s important. It’s…” He hesitated. “It’s Socioanalyst Carnac.”

Warrick frowned. “All right. I’m not doing anything too important at the moment. Have Reception send him up.”

A few minutes later, Gerry showed Carnac in.

“Keir, it’s so good to see you. I know I don’t have an appointment, as your esteemed admin has pointed out several times, but the nature of my visit is quite important.”

Warrick stared at the man as he walked across the room to take a seat. The last time they’d talked had been when Warrick traveled to Strasbourg to find out if Carnac had a copy of Kate’s security file, and if his father’s real name was in it. Carnac had been reduced to renting a tacky little office after he’d been excommunicated from Socioanalysis. Warrick had heard a rumor that his license had later been reinstated. The rumor must have been true given Carnac’s healthy appearance.

“If I said this was a pleasant surprise, you’d know I was lying, so let’s dispense with the small talk. Why are you here?”

Carnac smiled, his eyes glancing down and lingering on Warrick’s wrists, then back up to his face. Warrick resisted the urge to hide his hands under the desk.

“I see that Toreth is still in the picture. How is the domestic arrangement working out? How many nights a week does he spend at the flat? It must be difficult, hiding how hurt you feel when he doesn’t come home, wondering where he is and whom he’s with. I stand by my original prediction. You’ll eventually grow tired of his infidelities, of doing all the work to maintain the relationship. You’ll be going your separate ways within five years, give or take a year. That is, if he doesn’t kill you in a jealous rage first.”

Warrick gave him an icy look. “I’m not going to discuss my personal life with you. Your actions toward me and people that I care about have demonstrated just how little regard you have for me. I can’t imagine that I ever considered you a friend, that I could have ever let you...” He stopped speaking, knowing he was reacting exactly the way Carnac had expected him to.

The smile on Carnac's face never wavered. “I’m sorry you feel that way, especially now. I’m here today to do you a favor. I admit, I’m also thinking of my own self-preservation. We both know that where I am concerned, Toreth does not draw logical conclusions as to what we are doing with our time when we are together. In order to avoid any jealous tirades and physical violence, I thought that I would give you several days notice that I will be taking on a freelance position located here in New London. Just the fact that I am in the same city with you is enough to make him murderous. I can’t imagine how he will react when he finds out that not only will I be in New London for several weeks, I will be here at SimTech.”

Warrick felt his face beginning to flush with anger. “You can’t be serious. Why would you – ”

Then a hole opened in the pit of his stomach. He thought he was going to be sick. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d known why Carnac was here. He’d hoped he was wrong, that it was only a coincidence, but his worst fear had just been confirmed. He closed his eyes a long moment and in a flat voice said, “You’re the consultant EDO Corp hired to do the safety evaluation of the London Eye project.”

“Yes, I am. Apparently when they were choosing a consultant, I happened to be the only one who had prior experience with the sim. They were allowed to read the report I made to the Administration – a much edited report, it’s true. Nevertheless, it was the part concerning the transfer of information between sim systems that interested them the most.

“You have quite an ambitious plan, connecting eight hundred units. I have no doubt you can overcome any technical obstacles. It’s the psychological ones that they want me to focus on. Should I conclude that a lesser number of units would be optimal…well, it’s an all-or-nothing contract, is it not? They won’t go forward with anything less than eight hundred, a true virtual London Eye.”

Carnac leaned forward, clearly savoring this moment. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but SimTech _needs_ this contract to stay in business.”

Warrick thought that Carnac must have practiced that line several dozen times in order to get the tone and inflection just right. “I’m not going to put up with this. I’m contacting EDO and telling them you are not capable of doing an objective evaluation.”

“And when they ask why you hold that opinion, what will you tell them? That we were lovers once? That I tried to have your current lover killed because I wanted to reform I&I? Will you mention – your mother? Or perhaps tell them how my original report was incomplete, that I omitted the details of my findings in regards to Dr. Tanit’s death? That would certainly be the best example of my lack of objectivity where SimTech is concerned.”

Warrick sat back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. He was vaguely aware of the pain caused by the movement. As loath as he was to admit defeat, he had a grudging respect for Carnac’s ability to plan and manipulate. Warrick was cornered; there was no way out if SimTech was to survive.

“So,” Warrick began, “you finally have something you can use to coerce me into sleeping with you again. I wish I could say I’m flattered, but I’m not.”

“Keir, I’m hurt by your accusation. You know me. I would never compromise my reputation by falsifying a report. When I did my first evaluation of the sim, everything that I wrote was true. It’s hardly my fault that my employer didn’t know the right questions to ask. I saw no need to include extraneous information.”

“I thought I knew you, once,” Warrick replied. “But now, after everything you’ve done…I have no idea who you are anymore.”

“Then let me reassure you. I will do an honest study. Positive results will not be dependent on your sleeping with me, as enjoyable as that would be. The short-term pleasure would not be worth the risk of Toreth finding out and killing us for it.”

Warrick gritted his teeth. _‘…killing us for it.’_ The man just never stopped. But Warrick was in no position to protest. He had to play along.

“Then, in the interest of getting the work done in a timely manner, I will do my best to set aside any negative personal feelings I have toward you. In return, I ask that you keep our interactions strictly professional. I want no more free advice or predictions concerning Toreth and my personal life.”

Carnac stood, signaling the end to their meeting. “I look forward to working with you again. My official start date is Thursday. Arrangements are being made with your admin as we speak.”

Warrick started to stand, grimacing slightly when he felt an ache in his back. Probably one of the places Toreth had bitten him.

“Please, you don’t have to see me to the door. I can find my own way out. Oh, and one last thing. If that nice Mr. McLean is still around, I suggest he be nearby when you break the news to Toreth.”

“Carnac – ”

“I’m only thinking of EDO Corp. The project is dependent on your expertise. If you were to be hurt in any way – ”

“Carnac, goodbye. I will see you on Thursday.”

 

*****

Toreth sensed something was wrong as soon as he entered the flat. Missing were the mundane sounds of pots and pans, dishes, glasses, and utensils being moved around in the kitchen as Warrick prepared dinner.

Where was he? Was he even in the flat?

Warrick had called earlier that afternoon and spoken to Sara, telling her he was leaving SimTech early and to let Toreth know he had something important to talk to him about later at home. In other words, please don’t go out looking for a casual fuck tonight. Toreth had been busy on the detention level, interrogating the last of the prisoners related to Chevril’s investigation. When Sara had called down to relay the message, she’d added that Warrick wasn’t his usual self. He’d seemed distracted, not even teasing her about – well, anything. He’d treated her like she was any other admin.

The flat was mostly dark. Down the hallway, faint yellow light shone from the living room. Toreth found Warrick sitting on the sofa, still in his work clothes. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, his hands in his lap. Warrick’s wrists were still bruised to fuck. Toreth was going to have to be more careful or he was going to end up with a Justice officer at the front door.

The scent of alcohol filled the room. An empty glass and a half bottle of something – vodka? – sat on the coffee table. The television was on but the sound turned low. Warrick was staring at it, but Toreth knew he wasn’t really watching it.

Damn, had someone died? Toreth hoped not. He never knew what to do, how to offer comfort. He especially hated it when Warrick cried. Not that he did it very often. Even when he did, Warrick would try to hide it. As if Toreth didn’t know what red, puffy eyes meant.

He walked over to Warrick but didn’t sit down. No red, puffy eyes – no one dead, then. Thank fuck for that. “So, what’s going on?” He did his best to keep the uneasiness out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure he’d succeeded.

Warrick looked up at him, genuine surprise on his face. He moved over to make room for Toreth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Toreth sat down and waited, but Warrick didn’t say anything more. If no one had died, then it had to be SimTech. Toreth tried again.

“Warrick, what’s going on? Is there something wrong at SimTech? A problem with your new project?”

Warrick laughed, but he didn’t sound happy.

“Yes, you could say there is a problem with the new project. Just – not in the way you’d expect.”

He picked up his glass from the table and finished the rest of his drink, then turned to face Toreth.

“This project involves connecting a large number of sim units together. Technically, there's no problem with doing it. The client has some concerns, though, about the effect that that many units might have on the users’ mental state, that putting that many people all together in the same virtual world might have side effects we hadn’t considered.”

“How many units are you talking about?”

“Eight hundred.”

Toreth let out a low whistle. “Eight hundred?” He couldn’t imagine being in the sim with that many other people, or why he’d even want to be.

“This contract is very important to SimTech. Commercial orders picked up after the revolt, but not enough to cover the fixed costs of our production facilities. To save money, Asher wanted to make significant cuts to R&D and move the programmers to core projects. I disagreed. That’s been a mixed blessing because without speculative R&D, we wouldn’t have this new contract. But now, without this new contract, SimTech will go under.”

There was a pause while Toreth let all this new information sink in. He normally didn’t give a fuck about SimTech’s daily operations, but he’d always assumed that financially things were fine. When Warrick had been looking at new flats, there’d been a hint of some money problems then, but Warrick had said it wasn’t anything major. But that was nineteen, twenty months ago. Apparently things had changed.

“So, what exactly is the problem? I thought it was a done deal on Friday and the contract had been signed.”

“It is, but there’s a contingency. The client wants an outside evaluation done – they want assurance that eight hundred units will be safe. The last thing they need is to have an accident and get sued because they were negligent. Sim technology is so new, the only studies we have are the effects on individuals, at the most, ten sim units at one time.”

“What about the training project? I thought that simulated a riot. Weren’t several teams supposed to go in at once, trying to suppress it?”

“They did, but the client didn’t go forward with the project and we had to wipe any data for reasons of confidentiality.”

Toreth sighed. He still didn’t see what the problem was. “From day one you’ve touted how safe the sim is. Just get the new evaluation done and there you go. Or…” he paused, considering the possibility, as far-fetched as it seemed. “Do _you_ have doubts about that many units being safe?”

“Me? Good lord, no. I know it’s safe. Safer than if that many people were together in one place in the real world.”

“Warrick – just fucking tell me, then,” he said, running out of patience. “I’ve spent all day doing interrogations at work. I don’t want to have to do another one here at home.”

That earned him a cold stare, but at least it got Warrick talking.

“I don’t mind having the evaluation done. Or, at least I didn’t until today. It will be a valuable piece of research, not to mention a great marketing tool to get large projects on board. The problem is…the person the client hired to do the evaluation. He came to see me today, in person, to let me know he’d got the job. It’s Carnac.”

Toreth was speechless. His mind was playing tricks on him. He was sure he’d heard Warrick say Carnac’s name, but that was impossible. Warrick would never…

“No! No fucking way. After all the trouble he’s caused? Fuck, Warrick. He wanted to _kill_ me so he’d have a clear playing field with you. He exposed your mother as a Citizen Surveillance operative, making him indirectly responsible for Tarin’s accident and endangering you and all your family. What he did that day at your flat, he almost – ” _drove us apart for good, ruining the best thing I have going in my life._

“I know, I know all of that.” Warrick stood and began to pace. “But I don’t have any say in who the client hires. I said I’d tell the client he couldn’t possibly be impartial, not with the history between us. But…he _knows_ things. He knows about Dr. Tanit – everything. He found out about it when he did his first evaluation, that time you were in Greece, but withheld it from his report. I have no choice but to go along with his selection.”

“Well, _I_ don’t have to go along with it. I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance. He can’t tell anyone anything if he’s dead.”

“Toreth, please. Don’t do anything rash. Do you think he hasn’t planned for that possibility? Remember Yang, the software engineer at SimTech? I got his data file after he died, because of the delayed time-coding. Carnac would have something similar in place, and worse. I don’t want you to get hurt. Just stay away from him. The evaluation should be done in two weeks or less, and then he’ll be gone.”

Toreth couldn’t believe it. How could Warrick allow this to happen? Fucking SimTech. Warrick would do anything to protect that damn company.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Exactly how far are you willing to go to get a good evaluation?”

“I’m not going to sleep with him, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s going to do an honest evaluation.”

“And what if his ‘honest’ evaluation shows eight hundred sim units is too many to be safe? What then? Would you sleep with him to get him to change the report?”

“Of course not! I _know_ the sim is safe. I designed it. I coded it. I know how it works from the inside out. Eight hundred or eight thousand – it doesn’t matter. It’s safe.”

“I think you underestimate him. He knows your weakness is SimTech, and now he has the power to destroy it. How can you _not_ think he wouldn’t use it to get you into bed?”

“Because that’s not how he wants me. He doesn’t want me for a night. He wants me for the long term. And he knows that destroying SimTech by falsifying his report isn’t the way to go about it. But he also knows the trouble his presence can cause for us. That’s what he’ll use; that’s what we have to be careful of.

“I don’t want to fight over this. Two weeks and he’ll be gone. I promise that whenever I have to be with him, someone else will be there at all times. Nothing can happen if we’re never alone. Please, don’t let him come between us. That’s exactly what he wants.”

Warrick was right, of course. Toreth could picture Carnac looming over a giant chessboard, with Warrick and him as the pieces.

Toreth stood up. He had to collect his thoughts and he couldn’t do that here. Sometimes not having a flat of his own was damn inconvenient.

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back later.”

Warrick didn’t say anything, just nodded. For a moment, Toreth thought he saw something in Warrick’s eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? Then the cool mask of indifference fell back into place.

Toreth was still in his I&I uniform. He went to take a quick shower, and change. When he passed the living room on his way out, he didn’t say good-bye.

Outside, he paused, not sure where to go. He could go to Sara’s. He was there so often that he was going to have to start paying something toward the upkeep. But he’d only end up telling her about SimTech and Carnac and right now he didn’t want to think about any of that. He could go to I&I, do a credit and purchase check, find out where Carnac was staying, then do something really stupid like going to his hotel and killing the bastard. Then SimTech’s evaluation wouldn’t get done, and Warrick wouldn’t appreciate that at all.

He wanted to go to Gegi’s. It had always been the perfect place to take his mind off things for a few hours, but the thirty minutes he’d spent in a locked room there with John Sable, wondering if the Cit-Surveillance operative was going to kill him, had pretty much ruined the stress-relieving atmosphere of the place.

Then somewhere else came to mind. It had been a few years, but he’d kept the number.

As before, when the call went through, it was voice only, no visual.

“Paul? It’s Val Toreth. Do you remember me?”

“Toreth! An angel’s voice reaching out to me from the past. How are you, darling? I’ve worried about you, wondering whether you had survived that awful trouble last year. It’s such a pleasant surprise to hear from you. How, pray tell, may I be of service?”

“If you aren’t busy, I was wondering if you’d like to fuck?”

“Direct as always. It’s so nice to know you haven’t changed. Give me about thirty minutes. Dry, as I recall.”

Toreth paused a moment, then remembered – his drink preference, dry or sweet.

“That’s right. Dry. See you in thirty.”

 

*****

The two weeks went by surprisingly fast. If Warrick’s daily narratives of what was going on at SimTech could be believed, he’d been true to his word. He’d never allowed himself to be alone with Carnac. Twice, Carnac had insisted Warrick show him the sim prototype that had been done for the client. Both times Warrick had made sure the team lead programmer was in there with them, much to Carnac’s consternation.

On the second Wednesday of Carnac’s stay, Toreth entered the flat to the aroma of fresh baked bread and roasting meat, making his mouth water. He walked into the kitchen, taking in the mess. Warrick normally didn’t cook complicated meals mid-week. Something good must have happened today. Could it be…?

“There you are. Great news. Carnac is finalizing his report tomorrow, then sending it to the client on Friday morning. He assured me that his findings are positive and SimTech has nothing to worry about – right before he asked me to dinner tomorrow night, on the pretext of celebrating the completion of the evaluation. The man just never gives up.”

Toreth wasn’t sure what kind of look he had on his face in reaction to that last bit of news, but Warrick hurriedly added, “I turned him down flat, of course.”

“Aren’t you worried that he might change his mind about the report because you rejected his advances?”

Warrick shrugged. “Not really. It was a last ditch attempt to spend time with me, alone, before he leaves. He’s the last person I want to celebrate with. Now you, on the other hand…”

Warrick pulled Toreth close and kissed him, hard.

When they finally broke apart, Toreth asked, “Do we have time for an appetizer before dinner is ready?”

 

*****

Toreth really should have been expecting it. A fortnight with Carnac in New London and no contact between them had been too good to be true.

Sara had left early, something about having to take Bastard to the vet. She’d prepared the last of the interrogation transcripts for Chevril’s case and Toreth only had to sign off on them and send them on to Tillotson. He was in the middle of the batch, doing a cursory review of the current transcript when the call came in. If he’d been paying attention to the comm screen, he’d have hung up on the bastard as soon as he saw who it was.

Carnac’s silky voice came over the comm. “I can see you’re hard at work. I won’t take up much of your time.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Toreth snapped, now giving Carnac his full attention.

“As this is my last night in New London, I’m finding that I’d like some companionship this evening at dinner. I asked Keir first, but he said he had plans, so I thought perhaps you’d have the evening free. I hope you aren’t offended that you’re my second choice.”

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“No, I’m quite serious. I’ve yet to write the summary of my evaluation of SimTech’s new project. Perhaps you’d be willing to help me firm up some of the details, go over some of the numbers with me to be sure I have them correct?”

When the subject of Carnac had come up in regards to whether or not he had information on who Warrick’s father was, it had been just two months after Carnac had left I&I. The nasty little scene he’d caused in Warrick’s flat was still fresh in Toreth’s mind. Toreth couldn’t think of the man without feeling a homicidal rage coming on. Now, a year and a half later, his blood still boiled, but the urge to kill Carnac was slightly offset by the fact that even after all of Carnac’s manipulation and planning, Toreth was the one who’d ended up with Warrick.

But the less than subtle threat to SimTech wasn’t lost on Toreth, and it took every ounce of his self-control to not tell Carnac to go fuck himself. Warrick would never forgive him if Carnac ended up turning in a negative report because Toreth wouldn’t have dinner with him.

Even though Toreth was well aware that Carnac had more than dinner in mind. At least Warrick had turned Carnac down, but now Toreth would have to pay the price for Warrick’s naiveté in trusting Carnac to be honest with his findings.

“Fine, you manipulative bastard. But I’m making damn sure plenty of people will know where I am and who I’m with.”

“Meet me in my hotel bar, say around eight?”

Toreth disconnected the call without replying, then realized Carnac hadn’t said which hotel. Probably assumed Toreth had already looked it up via a credit and purchase check.

Which, of course, he had.

 

*****

The disadvantage of living with Warrick was that when Toreth felt like an after-work-stress-reducing-quick-fuck, he couldn’t simply go home and change first. He’d started keeping a set of clothes at work so he could shower and change at the gym instead. He rarely went anywhere that required a dinner jacket and tie, but sometimes Warrick would call, asking Toreth to meet him at a fancy restaurant, so Toreth had started keeping those at the office too.

Which was a good thing because if he’d had to go home and change before meeting Carnac tonight, he’d never have been able to leave Warrick.

The extravagance of the hotel where Carnac was staying would raise even Warrick's eyebrow. The bar was crowded. Too many idle rich with nothing to do on a Thursday night but spend money. It only took a moment before he caught sight of Carnac sitting at the bar, already watching him with a half-smile on his face.

As much as he hated Carnac, the man was looking fit. Even so, the thought of being touched by the bastard made Toreth's stomach churn.

He sat next to Carnac and called the bartender over, ordering a drink.

“Toreth, you’re looking well. I wouldn’t have thought cohabitation was a situation you’d willingly put yourself in, but it has certainly done wonders for you.”

“Look, you bastard. I’m here. If you want me to stay, then we don’t talk about Warrick. Leave him out of this. This is between you and me. I may not be a genius like you, but I know enough to understand that this is nothing more than your way of getting back at me for the night I fucked your I&I plans out of you after the revolt.”

Carnac took a sip of his drink, then said, “Oh, this is much more than payback for that night. But if it makes you uncomfortable to discuss Keir, then we can talk about other things. I made a reservation at the restaurant here. The food is excellent. I believe our table is ready.”

Toreth sighed. He finished his drink and ordered another to be brought to the table. He wasn’t here to make small talk. He didn’t want dinner. He just wanted Carnac to fuck him and get it over with so he could leave.

Which meant that Carnac would drag the evening out as long as he possibly could.

 

*****

Dinner was bearable. Carnac talked; Toreth didn’t listen. If he’d been with anyone else beside Carnac, he would've been having a good time. He made sure to order the most expensive thing that he could find on the menu, even if he didn’t know how to pronounce it or what it was. It tasted good, anyway, even more so because Carnac was paying for it. He tried to order more drinks during dinner. If he were drunk enough, maybe he would be able to forget who it was that was fucking him. Carnac put a stop to that plan right away, telling the waiter no more alcohol after Toreth’s third drink.

Then dinner was over and the time Toreth had been dreading all evening had arrived. Carnac held open the door to his room, waiting for Toreth to enter.

Fuck. He couldn’t do this! He couldn’t allow himself to be alone with Carnac. He’d been lucky, so very damn lucky, that he’d won their last confrontation and walked away with his life. If Carnac got him in this room, alone, he might not survive it.

“You _do_ understand the significance of these numbers to SimTech – five hundred, rather than eight?” Carnac asked when he saw Toreth hesitate.

“If I ever get the chance, I _will_ kill you,” Toreth replied as he stepped into the room.

The sound of the electronic lock being set sent shivers down his spine. How he managed not to flinch when he felt hands rest on his shoulders, warm breath in his ear, he’d never know.

“You won’t kill me because you’d never get away with it. And I won’t kill you because Keir would never forgive me. All I have to do is sit back and wait. It’s only a matter of time until he tires of you.”

Toreth clenched his fists and spun around. “Hell will freeze over before that happens. I know what he wants, what he needs. And even if he did grow tired of me, he’d _never_ want you. I don’t have to be a socioanalyst to make _that_ prediction.”

Carnac’s eyes narrowed. He took a step back from Toreth and said, “Remove your clothes and lie down on the bed.”

Toreth undressed quickly, doing his best to hide his revulsion. It would only give Carnac that much more satisfaction to see how much Toreth resented doing this. He threw his clothes on a chair, then walked over to the bed and lay face down.

“Oh, no,” Carnac said. “On your back. I want to see your face as I fuck you.”

Toreth turned over. He watched sullenly as Carnac undressed. He wished he had one of Daedra’s recreational drugs, something that would dull his senses and let his mind shut down while his body remained here. It had been a long time since he’d felt that way during sex. The first time it’d happened, it’d been with a guard at the reeducation center when he was thirteen. The second and third times it’d been with older students there. One of the other boys his age had taught him the trick, how to lie there and send his mind somewhere else while his body was being fucked.

Toreth knew Carnac wouldn’t put up with that, though. Carnac wanted to hurt him, to see the effect of every thrust, to witness his humiliation.

“Put your hands above your head and lift your legs up.”

Toreth did as he was told. He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, but Carnac grabbed his chin, forcing his head back around.

“Look at me. I don’t want you to be thinking of anyone else as I fuck you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, fine! Just do it then and get it over with. You want me to say it, I will – fuck me. I want you to. Do it now!”

Toreth gasped as Carnac thrust roughly inside. He reached up to push Carnac away, but Carnac grabbed his wrists and held them down. Toreth was stronger than Carnac, could easily throw him off, but this wasn’t a contest of physical power.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long, how it would feel to make you pay for all the pain and misery you’ve caused. I’ve always felt revenge of any kind was petty, a crass pastime practiced by those less emotionally mature. However, I'm finding it an utterly satisfying experience, both physically and mentally. The only thing that would be more satisfying is if I had you strapped into your own interrogation chair, neural induction probe in my hand, giving you a taste of what it feels like to be broken.”

“Do you know why I enjoyed you sucking my cock? It wasn’t because you were good at it. But at least while my cock was in your mouth, you shut the fuck up.”

Carnac wrapped a hand around Toreth’s cock, slowly stroking up and down the length, matching the movement of his hand to his thrusts. Toreth didn’t want to get hard. He tried to fight it, thinking of something, anything, besides the warmth growing in his belly. He’d been willing to die once, rather than let Carnac fuck him. How the hell had he ended up like this, then?

Easy – in a word: Warrick.

He shouldn’t think of Warrick, but he couldn’t help it. Who’d have ever thought his wanting to pay Warrick back for what had happened in the sim that first time would have turned into six long and satisfying years of playing the game.

 _Playing the game_ …fuck, he was stupid! Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? The way he’d planned on paying Warrick back had been to find out something he’d wanted, something he hadn’t even known he desired, a dark and dirty secret…

He knew Carnac’s dirty secret, the thing he’d never admit to. He’d even taunted him with it the day of the inspection at I&I: Carnac wanted _him_.

Another thrust, again…Toreth tightened his muscle around Carnac’s cock. It was enough to send Carnac over the edge, a low moan escaping his lips.

Carnac breathed heavily, trying to get himself back under control. Slowly, he pulled out of Toreth and lay down on the bed. Toreth waited for the right moment…

He sat up, grabbed Carnac by one arm and flipped him over so that he was face down. He forced Carnac’s wrist behind his back, pinning it between his shoulder blades. He pressed his other hand down onto Carnac’s neck, keeping his head in place. Carnac struggled beneath him, but was no match for Toreth’s training in restraint techniques. After a few moments, Carnac went still.

“Get off _me_!” Carnac tried to shout it, but his words came out muffled since half his mouth was pressed into the bed.

Toreth leaned close, his lips brushing against Carnac’s ear. “You don’t remember our last night together, but I do. Things would be so different if I’d just broken your treacherous fucking neck like I’d wanted to. Now I can’t. Not because I’m worried about getting caught, but because you haven’t turned in that damn evaluation of SimTech.”

His hand tightened on Carnac’s neck, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “But just because I can’t kill you, doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.”

Desperate, fruitless struggle. Toreth shifted his position, shoving his knee between Carnac’s thighs, forcing them apart. He let go of Carnac’s neck and arm. When Carnac bucked up, trying to get away, Toreth grabbed his wrists and forced them over his head, holding them together with one hand. Carnac took a deep breath, but before he could call for help, Toreth’s other hand clamped tight over Carnac’s mouth.

“If I’d had training as a socioanalyst, I might have worked things out sooner, but I’ve finally put the pieces together. Asking for me to be your fucking personal liaison. The look on your face when you were checking out the gear in my bedroom drawer. How you wormed your way into my flat, I’ll never know. But you thought about it, didn’t you? Just for a moment, what it would be like to have those chains on you, the collar around your throat, the leather around your cock? Then you did your best, after the revolt, to convince me to bend over for you in exchange for my life. Yeah, yeah – I know you really hate me and you truly wanted me dead, probably still do.

“But that night when I had you drugged and spilling your guts about your plans to destroy I&I, that wasn’t the only thing you were spilling your guts about. You were all over me, begging me to fuck you, pleading with me to make you come…telling me you loved me.”

Carnac lay perfectly still. Toreth removed his hand from Carnac’s mouth.

“I hate you.” Carnac said it so softly, Toreth barely heard it.

“I know.”

Toreth knelt back, pulling Carnac’s hips up off the bed, and reached around. Carnac was hard.

“But you hate yourself more. Because you want me.”

Toreth held him tight, but Carnac didn’t fight anymore.

“You’ll have to say it,” Toreth whispered in his ear.

“Say what?”

Toreth kissed the back of Carnac’s neck. “What you want me to do to you.”

Carnac shivered. “No. I can’t.”

“Say it or I won’t do it.”

Carnac shook his head. “Please, Toreth…”

“Say it, or I’m leaving.”

“I want you, please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Toreth, I…”

“Say it!”

“Fuck me! Please, Toreth, just – _ah_!”

Toreth pushed inside, keeping his hand tight on Carnac’s cock, slow movements in contrast to the brutal thrusts. He bit down hard on Carnac’s neck, marking him, claiming him. Carnac trembled violently in Toreth’s arms, and then he came. The clenching tightness of Carnac’s arse around Toreth’s cock had him coming soon after.

_God, how he loved making people do things they didn’t think they wanted to do._

 

*****

Carnac woke to the sound of the shower running. He glanced over to the chair where Toreth had thrown his clothes – still there. He’d read about people blacking out during orgasm, but until now, he had never experienced it himself. It was somewhat disconcerting to think that the body could feel so much pleasure that it ‘died’, so to speak.

The shower turned off. A moment later, Toreth appeared in the doorway, drying himself. Carnac never ceased to be impressed by the amount of work Toreth must put in at the gym in order to keep his body in such pristine shape.

When Toreth finished, he dropped the towel on the floor and walked over to the bed. Carnac’s heart picked up speed. This was where things could go wrong, if any part of the night could. The probability was low, but still – Toreth had been surprisingly resourceful in the past. If he spent just a few more moments, thinking things through…

“The night didn’t end up exactly the way you planned,” Toreth said, “but I hope I performed adequately enough that you’ll see your way to sending a positive report on SimTech.”

Carnac gave him a mocking smile. “Adequate would be an understatement, as you very well know. You have no worries as far as SimTech is concerned. Warrick will be pleased with what I’ve done.”

Carnac watched as Toreth stiffened. It was really too easy sometimes.

Without further comment, Toreth turned and dressed.

Carnac put on a robe and walked to the door, entering the code to release the electronic lock. He held the door open for Toreth, but before Toreth stepped into the hallway, Carnac added, “Next month when I’m at SimTech, you’ll have to join me again for dinner, if Keir is unavailable.”

“What do you mean, ‘next month’?” Toreth asked sharply.

“Apparently the fact that I am the only socioanalyst to have working knowledge of the sim makes my services quite in demand. I haven’t yet completed my current report, and word is already out about my so-called expertise. Just this last week, I’ve been contacted by two potential clients. One was willing to pay an obscene amount of money if I could start next month. Keir doesn’t know about it yet, so perhaps you could do me the favor of keeping it confidential for now.”

Toreth had gone white with fury. Carnac could see the scenarios playing out in Toreth’s mind. He pushed the door closed, grabbed the front of Carnac’s robe and slammed him against the wall. “You stay away from Warrick. If you need someone to be your fucking liaison at SimTech, you pick someone else.”

Carnac rested his hands on top of Toreth’s, moving his thumbs slowly back and forth in a sensual rhythm. “I’m sure we could reach a mutually beneficial arrangement. I’ll call you when I get back to New London, shall I?”

“All right, fine. As long as you stay away from Warrick.”

Toreth let go of Carnac and stormed out of the room.

Really, Carnac thought – all too easy.

 

*****

Carnac sat in front of his former mentor, a cup of chamomile tea in his hand. The late afternoon flight from New London to Strasbourg had left him dehydrated and tired. He wanted nothing more than to get home and relax, leisurely replaying in his mind some of the better parts of the evening before. Du Pre had called him early this morning at his hotel before he left, though, asking him to call into her office directly from the airport to discuss his findings.

“I’ve read your report,” Socioanalyst Camille du Pre stated. “Detailed and to the point. I look forward to trying out the sim for myself when the virtual London Eye project is complete. How did the data collection for the other study go?”

Carnac took a sip of his tea, gathering his thoughts before replying.

“As expected, although somewhat more – _satisfying_ – than I’d anticipated. Some aspects of human behavior simply have to be experienced. No amount of book-reading can fully describe it.”

“I take it, then, you’ve successfully ended your feud with Val Toreth.”

“In a manner of speaking. He still hates me and I, him. There remains constant, though empty, threats of killing each other. But as my secondary report shows, depending on the circumstances, that hatred can fuel desire quite effectively.”

“And Dr. Warrick?”

Carnac took another sip of his tea. “I managed to make advances toward him in such a way that he’d have to reject me. So, another success, I suppose.”

“Excellent. I had no doubts that you’d find a way to deal with his close proximity. I realize that by asking you to take on this assignment, I was placing you back into a situation which you’d worked so diligently to remove yourself from. And for that, I do apologize. However, Socioanalysis could not take the chance that SimTech would go under, allowing the rights to the sim technology to revert back to Psychoprogramming. Because of your prior work, you had the highest probability of successfully completing the task.”

“I’m glad I could be of service,” he said, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.

“I understand that you’ve been approached by several new clients with regard to sim projects.”

“Yes. It seems I’ve earned a reputation for having independent expert knowledge in the subject.”

“Given the interest of the Administration in sim technology, it’s always good to have someone with close, personal ties to SimTech, who can represent our interests, even if it’s done surreptitiously. Keep up the good work.”

She stood up, holding out her hand. “Our decision to restore your license appears to be working out for all of us.”

Carnac smiled. “Yes, it is. As you knew it would.”

She smiled back. “Yes.”

~ Fin ~


End file.
